Horrifying Vacation
by QuierdoMusic
Summary: The boys have not only supernatural problems on a hunt in South Miami beach, still dealing with their father's death. Dean's moods endagering them even more, just like the lack of sleep of both brothers. Set in season 2 after Bloodlust. R&R please
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey guys... how are you...?**_

_**Wow... I'm writing again... **__**It's been a while. **_

_**Okay... the story sets in the 2. Season, right after Bloodlust... yeaaaaaaaaaaah good old times. :)**_

_**So... have fun.**_

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**Horrifying**** Vacation**

"Sam... I'm waiting..." Dean snorted, drumming against the wheel with impatient fingers.

For once there was no music blaring in the car... Nothing, but silence.

"Yeah... wait a second longer." Sam murmured, not really daring to say it out loud, but loud enough to be heard. He eyed his brother briefly, who just tightened his jaw. "Okay... we're... damn it..." He cursed, running his hand through his hair and turned around to watch the missed street pass by. _Yeah... goodbye, street... hello, new reason to argue. _

"What?" Dean asked sharply. "We've already gone too far?"

"NO..." Sam defended himself, turning the map on his lap around. It felt like walking on eggs just talking to his older brother. "No... we just could have taken the '_Julia Tuttle Causeway_' on our right..."

"RIGHT?" Dean snapped.

"No... left... damn it... now look for the '_Mac Arthur Causeway_' and then turn left." Sam turned the map again and followed the street with his fingers. A full week on the road with his brother had already taking its toll on the younger man. Driving through the whole country, when Dean behaved like that, was bad, but also eating and sleeping in the Impala was torture. But they had achieved to literally cross the whole country... from Montana to Florida... More specific: Their destination was the _Art Deco _in _Miami Beach_... _South Beach._

And all that without a single normal conversation... not to mention the things Sam really wanted to talk about. Nothing, besides the usual _What-do-you-want-to-eat-tonight-crap _or the _You-want-me-to-drive-for-a-while-shit._

Last time he had tried to talk to his big brother, Sam ended up with a nice bruise on his cheekbone. Okay... that had been his fault, too... He had been the one who accused Dean to replace their dad with Gordon.

"Okay... now?" Dean asked, unconsciously touching his swollen lip, where Gordon had hit him.

"Just go straight." Sam responded, taking a deep breath. "Okay... you want to go to the hotel first, right?" Taking the lack of an answer as a 'yes', Sam just went on. "_Collins Avenue_ then left. Then... hold on a second." He swallowed hard. "We need a parking lot... or a parking block first."

"Yeah well... I already figured that I can't take the Impala into the hotel room with us." Dean grumbled.

"No Dean... there is no... parking lot at the hotel." Sam braced himself for another anger fest.

After a while of uncomfortable silence Sam looked at his boiling brother. "_Washington Avenue... _turn left_._" And Dean did, tires squeaking Sam winced. "16th street left... there is a parking block. We can walk from there."

"Yeah... we could have picked a motel and could have driven right _there._" Dean mocked.

Sam looked over at his brother again. the first half of this week Dean had been all nice and friendly, still enjoying his car, playing his music... and probably still sorry for that punch. But three days ago he just fell back into his bad-mood-nobody-is-save-around-me-pattern.

It had been the hardest time in the last weeks, since their father's death. Fighting with his brother... or not talking for that matter, had always been hard on Sam, but forced to stay with him 24/7 in one small car, one week long, unable to grieve, had kept him from falling asleep, scared of nightmares.

God... he wanted to cry every time he thought about his dad. But he couldn't, not knowing how Dean would deal with it.

He felt so alone.

And he was so tired of all this... he just wanted to be in a hotel room, laying in a bed, turning on the air-conditioning, so his brother wouldn't hear him, when he had a nightmare. He just hoped that Dean wouldn't want to visit the _Ocean Drive_ tonight.

"Okay... so..." Dean patted the hood of the Impala, passing it. "What's going on around here?"

Sam glared at him for a moment, stretching his sore limbs. The older Winchester was so nice to that damn car. "I don't know... people are dying around here. Sixteen deaths in the last three weeks. Maybe more. All of them were found at the beach of the... Ocean Drive..." Sam bit his lip.

"Who says that it's no human, who's killing the people?" Dean wondered, looking around. It was a nice place, though it was hot like hell, both of the brothers just wearing thin T-Shirts.

"Don't know... Ellen did." Sam shrugged, his right hand in his jeans pocket, where his father's dog tag was hidden safely. Dean had wanted to burn it along with their father. Sam couldn't. He didn't know what to do with it yet, but he rescued it.

"Okay... when that's enough for you... it's enough for me." Dean nodded, offering peace. Sam glanced over, surprised, searching for any signs of sarcasm. But there were none. "Thanks."

After a few minutes of walking in more comfortable silence, they entered their yellow, nice looking hotel and checked in. _Uh... look... late guests, we've already thought you'd stand us up._

"You've already reserved rooms, Sam?" Dean asked, when they were in the elevator. "You're sure we're here for a hunt, or are you gonna go to the beach with your new bikini?"

"Damn it Dean... cut me some slack, will ya?" Sam stomped his foot, looking at his brother. He was already tired, sad and miserable, he didn't want to give up the little harmony.

When the older brother turned around to enter the seventh floor, heading to room 711, Sam could hear his brother snicker. "What?" He asked softly, passing the expensive looking mirror and the flowers in front of it. He looked terrible... tired and simply screwed.

He wondered how Dean managed to hide his own lack of sleep. They both knew that they slept equally... nothing.

Opening the room, Dean smiled at his little brother. "You really stomped your foot, Sam..."

The younger man rolled with his eyes. "C'mon Dean" But a ghost of a smile played around his lips, too.

"Very cute Sam..." Dean chuckled. "Very cute. I think you did it the last time when you were three years old."

Watching Dean, Sam let himself fall on the bed next to the window, knowing that Dean wanted the bed on the door.

Dean set his duffle on the bed, after closing the door. "You want to take a nap, before we leave?"

"Dean... no... please... not tonight... okay?" Sam didn't even bother to move a muscle.

"Okay... I'll taking a shower..." Dean nodded, heading for the bathroom. "Then I'll go alone."

Rolling over, Sam laid down on his stomach, his face buried in his arms, holding back tears of frustration, sadness, loneliness and lack of sleep.

He wished his father was alive, yet alone to get his brother back.

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**To be continued. (What a surprise.)**

**Reviews please :)**


	2. Chapter 2

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**Just the job**

"You're ready?" Sam asked, sitting up, when his brother came into the room, rubbing his short hair with a towel, while a bigger one was around his waist.

"Yeah... I'm ready..." Dean gripped his duffle and went back into the bathroom. Sam shook his head.

"Okay... I'm gonna leave." Dean buttoned his shirt, glaring at his brother. "Since you're obviously not really up to it, you'd be more of a burden... so I'll look for hints by myself." Seeing the hurt look on his brother's face, Dean chewed at his lip. "Try to sleep. I'll be back soon."

"Gah..." Sam let himself fall back into the comfortable bed, pressing his palms against his forehead. His brother was annoying.

And now he was getting a headache... or was it a vision?

"Damn it..." Sam groaned.

... ... ... ... ...

Somehow Dean regretted not taking Sam with him. It was a wonderful place, and though it was still pretty warm in the dark, the fresh, salty smelling breeze felt great on his bare arms and his face. Sammy had always enjoyed the see. And the colorful houses, which were embraced in dim light looked just terrific.

He frowned. The place was so damned crowded. How could anything... supernatural or not... kill a person and dump the body on the beach without being seen.

Dean was looking at a thermometer and a clock which were on a huge brown stone, when he suddenly heard a shout. "Damn it." He cursed, running to the beach.

"Help" A blonde woman shouted. For a second Dean stood there looking at the scene in front of him. There was a bum attacking the woman, trying to get her bag. Nothing supernatural, not even deadly, but Dean ran there though to stop him, when no one else did.

"Let go." Dean shouted, kicking the bum's side, causing the man to double over first, before he ran. _Okay... that was easy._

"Thank you so much..." The woman turned to Dean, tears in her eyes, hugging her bag to her chest. "How can I thank you for that?"

Dean immediately smiled at her charming, but didn't really want to go further. "It's okay... I..."

"No... really... please... what about a drink in my apartment?" The woman smiled. She was beautiful. Her blonde, curly hair brushing against her shoulders. "Please... I insist... My name is Sally by the way." She took Dean's hand, shaking it gently. "And my hero's name is..."

"Angus..." Dean responded immediately.

"Okay... Angus... what about that drink?" She asked again.

Looking at the woman, Dean knew where that would end. "Yeah... why not..."

"Awesome."

... ... ... ... ... ...

"Nice..." Dean nodded, looking at the small living-room.

"Yeah..." Sally nodded, handing the Winchester a glass with whiskey. "Even nicer, when you're around, Dean."

"Thank..." Dean looked up, set the glass on the table, not taking a sip, balling his fists. "Where are you from, Sally?"

"Nowhere specific. I'm on a road trip with some friends of mine." She explained.

"And where are your friends?" Dean's eyes were searching for a weapon.

"You've seen one on the beach, kiddo." The woman turned around, fixing Dean with her eyes. "You're a hunter... aren't you, otherwise you would have ticked out as soon as I called you by your real name. My other victims always flipped when I knew their last-name."

"What are you?" Dean asked, hoping he could deal with it alone.

"No... I'm not telling you that... maybe when you're taking your last breath." Sally set down her glass, too, smiling.

"Christo." Dean said, beginning with his biggest fear.

"I'm no demon-bitch." Sally laughed.

Grunting, Dean fetched his pistol and pointed it at her head. "So... what are you?"

"We'll see." She seemed relaxed, when she attacked.

Guessing that the pistol wouldn't work, Dean let it fall and balled his hands into fists again, defending himself from the kicks and hits.

A well-placed punch into his stomach sent him to his knees.

"You're thinking about your brother... he won't help you." The woman lifted Dean's face. He glared at her and with a fast movement he stabbed his knife into her chest. The woman gasped. "Ouch..." She mocked, sliding the item out of her body again. "Nice try."

Dean smiled at her, seeing the ugly skin. "I've got something better..." He rammed another knife into her body. "Silver... shifter." He pushed the gagging woman away, holding his hurting arm.

Then with the woman dead on the ground, Dean fished his cell out of his pocket, dialling.

"Dean..." He heard Sam's shaking voice.

"Are you hurt?" Dean asked, leaving the apartment.

"Where are you?" In Sam's voice was pain and fear. "God Dean... can we... are you already in the hotel?"

"No... you... where are you?" Dean's voice was furious, though he was just worried.

"Can we meet at the motel?" Sam sounded miserable, scared. "Please?"

"Yeah..." Dean hung up.

... ... ...

When Dean reached the room, Sam was already sitting in it, starring at the door.

"Where have you been?" Dean asked.

"I've seen you... fighting with a woman." Sam rubbed his temples.

"You..." Dean cupped his hand over his mouth, walking over to his little brother, fetching some Tylenol and water on the way. Kneeling in front of Sam, he looked up sympathetic, realizing why his brother had been scared like this. "Hey... take that." He ordered, handing the painkillers to his brother. "I'm okay... okay?"

"What was it?" Sam asked, looking at his brother's new bruises.

"Shapeshifter." Dean stood up again, heading for the bathroom to fetch a cool, wet cloth for his own battle-wounds.

"Can I help you?" Sam asked, seeing his brother wince.

"Nah... I've got it..." Dean looked up. "Sam... focus. I killed the shapeshifter... but something is odd... she told me that she was on a roadtrip with friends... and she was attacked by... by an bum... I think it was show... have you ever heard of shapeshifter... fighting in packs?"

"I don't know." Sam confessed, swallowing the pills. "God... I hate shapeshifter."

Dean could relate. He felt the same way, since one of them had worn his face. "Hey Sam... I have an idea..." Dean turned around to search for something. "I know you're scared that one of them will appear wearing my meat-suite." _I'm scared, too._ "Now we need something, these things won't be able to adapt to."

"Dean... they're able to download thoughts..." Sam stated. Why have they taken this job?

"Yeah... that's why we need something they can't copy... First of all... we have to stick together..." Dean swallowed. "And in the case we get parted..." Having found a pen and two bandages, he rounded his brother, getting hold on one of his shoulders. "They can't download something, you don't know."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, trying to shove his brother away, when Dean tried to push up Sam's right sleeve.

"Hold still..." Dean slapped at his brother's hands. "This is awkward enough."

"Dean..." Sam turned around a bit to face his brother. "What are you doing?"

"They aren't able to copy clothes... or... other things on men's skin." Dean explained, opening the pen and holding Sam's biceps. "So.. they won't be able to copy a tattoo... neither."

"You've lost your mind." Sam chuckled, feeling the pen on his skin.

"Good... So... I'll bandage it and do me a favor... don't think about what's under the bandage... because they'll look what's underneath."

"And wha.." Sam was interrupted immediately.

"I'll know when the bandage is different... or the look of my... painting changed..." Dean promised. "And you'll know, too." Dean added, lifting his own sleeve.

"Thanks Dean." Sam took the pen.

"Sam... leave it... I'm just reasonable." Dean just turned his face away, sitting down in front of his brother.

"Yeah... of course." Sam let his head hang. "We won't look at this right?"

"Scared I'll see your crappy painting?" Dean laughed.

"Kinda." Sam replayed, looking at his 'work of art'.

He didn't even paint something.

'_I miss you calling me Sammy_' It just read.

"Bandage it up neatly." Dean ordered.

"What are we gonna do now?" Sam asked when he finished his work.

"I don't know... researching whether all victims wanted to help a young woman who is about to be robbed by a bum." Dean stood up, bringing distance between him and his brother. How would he be able to stick together with his brother without losing control?

"Uhm... what?" Sam asked.

And Dean explained everything what happened earlier.

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**Reviews please?**


	3. Chapter 3

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**A nest**

"Okay..." Sam nodded. "Sounds like they might work together... and now?" Sam asked lifting his hand.

"Don't scratch." Dean pushed Sam's hand away from the bandage. "It has to stay right the way it is." Sam rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "And... I don't know what to do... we don't even know how many shifters there are... well... there could just be one left... but we could also be outnumbered by a dozen shifters."

"You think that's even possible?" Sam asked frightened.

"I don't know..." Dean shrugged. "I've never heard of it. We can't go to the Ocean Drive every night, waiting for a bum robbing a woman... and we can't kill them both in front of everyone."

"Yeah..." Sam nodded. "Then we have to find the nest... where had she brought you?"

"_News Café_... a room upstairs... looked pretty old." Dean rubbed his hands against his knee, thinking hard. When Sam titled his head, Dean continued. "When... when we entered the house... she greeted a man... the supervisor. So either... the real Sally stayed in the house before..."

"...or he is a shifter, too." Sam concluded. "We need silver bullets..."

"Damn straight." Dean took a look at the clock between the two beds. 3:25. He needed to sleep. And Sam obviously, too. "Okay... we're no good when we try to kill them sleepwalking... let's just... get some shuteye for a couple of hours... and continue researching tomorrow."

"Really?" Sam couldn't believe that.

"I guess they won't try anything tonight... the café is closed... so... yes..." Dean ran a hand through his hair.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Sam... shut up immediately..." Dean shouted.

"Dean please... that's insane." Sam spoke quiet. "Please... listen to me... we don't know how many they are... so please... let's just _not_ go in there without any knowledge..."

"Good... you can sit that one out." Dean yelled.

They were still in their room, talking about the hunt. It was early in the morning. Dean thought about talking to the supervisor, wanting to know whether he was on of these things. After that Dean insisted to wait for the night to break into the café.

"We're not going to split up." Sam said quietly, knowing that he had lost this fight, when his brother would go with or without him. "Dean... what do you want to do when the supervisor... is human... he will know you... and... he would know that you're the last person who was with this Sally-girl."

"Okay..." Dean stood up and fished something out of his duffle. "I'm gonna wait in front of the café, agent Davis."

"I thought..." Sam swallowed, taking the false ID.

"I'll watch you... Sam..." Now Dean sounded just frustrated. He knew that Sam was just scared of these things. "Head in the game... focus."

Sam looked up at his brother who was towering over him. His brother was all business. "Good... uhm... so... I'm gonna interrogate him... what he has seen... stuff like that. Dean... what's when he is capable of hiding his true identity... or when he's really a human being? I'm gonna slash his arm with a silver knife, saying that it was an accident when he's human?"

"Sam... what to the..." Dean gritted his teeth. "Is this the first time you're on a hunt?" Sam just glared up at him. "Okay... just take another silver item... and touch him briefly with it... a fork... a... wait a second..." Dean headed for his duffle. "Dad..." He swallowed painfully, making Sam wince. "...had a trick. Here... take that." He handed Sam a ring. "Right hand... on your thumb. Shake hands with him when you say goodbye... the ring is silver... it will burn him when he's a shifter."

"Okay..." Sam slid the item on his finger. "Fits." Sam looked at his hand, turning the ring around.

"Congrats." Dean sounded bitter. "Come on Sam... we still have to wander to my car, fetching silver bullets."

... ... ... ... ... ...

Dean stood in front of the Café, looking through the huge windows. It was a nice café, pictures of stars on the walls. He could see James Dean and Marilyn Monroe, for example. Sam was inside, talking to the supervisor at the bar. The older brother had a bad feeling, letting his eyes wander from one waiter to another and back to his little brother. Some of the employees were watching Sam, too. Dean couldn't see the supervisors face, only Sam's. His brother was tense, his face was worried. "Come on, Sammy... you can do this." Suddenly Sam nodded, grabbing the other man's hand, both man looking down on their linked hands. When Sam looked up, his mouth was slightly open and he cradled his hand on his chest, seeming shocked. Dean frowned, titling his head, it looked like Sam was in pain. Dean's own hand wandered to his gun, stepping forward, when the supervisor turned around and left quickly, followed by some waiters in the direction of the woman's restroom. Sam hurried out of the café.

"Sam... we have to follow them." Dean said, gripping his brother's arm.

"No..." Sam still had his hand hugged to his chest. He was sweating. "Tonight... okay... there are too many people in the café."

"Sam... there is a nest of shifters... it's ten am... I don't think we should still wart seventeen hours, doing no..." Dean stopped, gripping Sam's hand. "Sam... you're bleeding... what happened? How did it happen..."

"It's not bad... I..." Sam started, but was interrupted.

"Sam." Dean demanded an answer, looking at the cut, which was placed on Sam's right palm along his thumb. "Can you move your fingers?" He asked, more calmly, looking up worried.

"Yeah..." Sam winced when he proved it. "He had already known about the ring... and..."

"Where is the ring?" Dean asked, but didn't need an answer when he saw his brother's guilty look. "Damn it." He cursed, not realizing that this made it just worse.

"I'm sorry... He... he... had a knife, I didn't see it... he carved open my palm, so he could... well... get the ring." Sam looked at his hand which was still placed in Dean's palms. "I don't think it needs stitches..."

"Okay... good... then... let's head back to the hotel... bandage it... and... wait for tonight." Dean let go of his brother hand, passing by.

They went to the hotel in silence. Dean didn't even greet the hotel staff, probably still pissed because of the loss of the ring. Sam walked behind him, cradling his hand, earning sympathetic glances from the staff.

Upstairs Dean fetched the first aid kit, pushing Sam down on his bed.

"Ouch..." Sam complained.

"Wuss..." The older Winchester bandaged roughly. "You have to be more careful, Sam. That was absolutely unnecessary."

"Thanks... I was a little bit surprised that he attacked me in the middle of a crowd of people." Sam glared at his brother's head. "You were the one who got beaten by a shifter-chick yesterday." A pull on the bandage. "Damn it... Dean... That was on purpose." His only answer was a small smirk and a pat on his shoulder. "Jerk."

"Okay... I'm done." Dean nodded, an left for the bathroom to store the kit again. Sam looked after him.

"_You're supposed to say bitch._" He whispered, knowing that Dean couldn't hear him. "_Come on Dean... give me anything._"

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	4. Chapter 4

**Hey... uhm... I just wanted to say... I did not invent the "News Café" It's REALLY a great café in Miami Beach. The drinks are delicious and there are really pictures of James Dean on the walls... So... not mine.**

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**A vision**

"Sam... damn it.." Dean yelled. "Just because you're scared..."

"Dean stop shouting at me. I have a say in this, too... You can't just decide everything... you're immature... pigheaded and I know that you're still suffering, but..." Sam shouted. He stood in the middle of the room.

"Don't even think about starting with this again." Dean stood up, too. "Or I'll swear."

"What... you'll hit me again? You're gonna walk off?... you're..." Sam made a bitch-face. He was frustrated. They were talking about the hunt again, and Dean had suggested that they would split up, despite the danger. The older Winchester hoped that they would be faster searching for the nest apart. "Dean... please... I want to know that my real brother is with me."

"That's why we have painted our skin." Dean pointed to his arm. "God... I just want to split up while we're searching for the nest."

"No... Dean... Last time I was able to simply tell that the shifter wasn't you, without any... hints. Just because he wasn't you... I wouldn't be able to do that now... so please... please... I'm begging you... don't make me go schizophrenic on you... please."

"Yeah... okay." Dean nodded, he looked hurt deeply. "Right... we'll stick together." The older Winchester watched his brother, massaging his temples. Sam considered him to be the same monster, Gordon had said he would be._ I didn't blink and neither would you... _Gordon had said when he was talking about killing his sister... and it was his fault Sam thought like this. Dean had to prove him wrong.

"Dean... man..." Sam sighed. "I'm sorry... it's just..."

"Let's not talk about this, right now... not right before a hunt." Dean brushed him off.

"It's just... the things..." Sam had no possibility to explain himself, when Dean again hid himself in the bathroom. "... they just freak me out."

Taking a deep breath, Sam looked at his watch. "Dean... we have to go."

"I know" Dean said, looking up surprised when Sam stood right in front of the bathroom door. "Let's go."

"Dean..." Sam spun his brother around. "Have you drunken something in there?"

"What?" Dean shoved the younger man back. "No... have you lost your mind?"

"Dean... you stinking..." Sam wanted to kick himself... and his brother, too. He knew that he shouldn't have said the things he said, but he hadn't expect his brother to drown his feelings in alcohol.

"Sam... stop thinking." Dean already slipped into his shoes. "I'm not pitying myself. I've taken one sip from my flask... and I'm not a lightweight like you... so stop talking."

"I'm just..." Sam raised his arms, apologizing. "...worried."

"Yeah... quit worrying." Dean snapped. "I'm alright, okay... god... would you please stop trying to fuss over me. You're the younger one... you know?"

"Doesn't seem to matter anymore." Sam grumbled, biting his lip. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

"Come again?" Dean asked, though he knew exactly what his brother was talking about.

"You know exactly what I mean..." Sam didn't back down this time. Dean would be mad anyway.

"Let's go." Dean said, walking towards the door.

"No... Dean..." The younger man gripped his brother's arm. "Don't you want to say something... anything...?" He didn't want to go on a hunt with his edgy brother, knowing they were mad at each other.

"Yeah... I could say a lot of things... but I don't think I would do you a favor saying them." Dean shrugged him off. "I might just give you reason thinking that I'm a shifter... you know."

"Dean... man... I didn't mean it like that. Damn it." Sam couldn't control his voice anymore, his dejection obvious. "God Dean... I... I just... think that dad's death had changed you..." Before his brother could interrupt him, Sam continued. "I mean... of course it did... but you're not the big brother I know anymore. It has never been this easy _for me_ to pick a fight with you."

"Sam. Not everybody has to deal with things, the way _you_ want them to." Dean shouted. "Get over it. Okay. And don't expect me to mollycoddle you..."

This time it was Sam's turn to head for the door. He had already known that these little arguments, these days of silence would spin out of control somehow. But he hadn't expected it to end like... this.

Dean let his head fall, before he started after Sam, knowing that they had to talk about that later.

It was raining and the huge clouds were occasionally lit up by a lightning. It looked impressive.

"Hurry Sam." Dean felt the hard raindrops smack down on him. The thunderstorm was right above them and he knew that they shouldn't joke around with something like this in Florida. Looking at his brother, Dean felt like the biggest jerk in the whole world and at the same time he knew that Sam could really push all the wrong bottoms. And now the younger brother was sulking.

"Dean" Sam started, as soon as they stood in front of the _News Café_. Dean turned towards him, waiting. "You're still with me on this... right? We're..."

"...We're not going to split up Sam." Dean nodded. "We won't."

Mumbling a small 'thanks' Sam kneed down in front of the door, insisting to pick the lock. Dean flexed his fingers, before he turned the door knob. The door swung open. "That's easier." He attempted to make it lighter, but failed.

It was quiet in the café, disturbing, after the loud storm. "Stay behind me." Dean ordered, his hand on his gun, finger playing around the trigger.

"I'm good. Go on." Sam lied. He wasn't good, not at all. "After I've talked to the supervisor he left to the restrooms... I... oh... gah..."

"Sam..." Dean spun around, gripping his brother's arms, when Sam went to the ground. "Shit Sam... not now."

_He walks down a long corridor._

_His brother shoots, killing a shapeshifter._

_"Dean" He whispers, hysterically. "There are too many."_

_"I know." Dean has a hand on his elbow._

_Dean, right by his side, shoots again, another shifter goes to the ground._

_Suddenly a shifter attacks them. And before Sam can realize what's happening, his brother lies on the ground, bleeding, his throat cut open. And right by his brother's side is the shifter which Sam has shot._

_"Dean..." Sam goes to the ground, shaking his brother. "Dean... please... Dean... hey... wake up." _

_But it is too late._

"Oh please... no..." Sam took a shuddered breath, fisting his brother's shirt. "Dean..."

"Shit Sam. We can't hunt with you having a headache." Dean pressed his palm against Sam's forehead, not knowing whether his brother was able to go on. "What have you seen?"

"You're going to die." Sam's voice shook. "Dean... we have to leave. Please."

"You know we can't do that." Dean moved his hand from Sam's forehead the younger man's cheek. Sam bit his lip, gripping Dean's shirt even tighter. Dean huffed. "You've seen it... so we can stop it."

"There are too many." Sam looked over his brother's shoulder towards the basement stairs, right beside the restrooms. "You've said it yourself in my vision."

"Come on Sam." Dean stood up and pulled his brother with him. "It's gonna be okay. Sam what have you seen."

Sam chewed on his lip, pressing his palm against the side of his head. "I don't want to go."

Dean looked at him, not knowing what to do. "Sam... tell me... we have to have our head in the game."

"Dean... I've nearly lost you just a few weeks ago... we're not exactly a perfect team right now..." Sam tried to change his brother's mind.

"Sam..." Dean sighed. "You're not going to lose me. Not tonight. I still have to kick your ass for our conversation in the motel. And I think you're still not too fond of me neither." _At least fond enough to save my life._ "So... now we know how dangerous it is... let's just... make this. You're up for it? How's you head?"

"In the game..." Sam tightened his jaw, still glaring at his brother, trying to blink these tears away.

"Good then... what did you see?" Dean looked up at his brother.

"A long corridor." Sam give in. "A basement."

"Okay... let's go downstairs." Dean braced himself. This time he should be really careful, watching out for both of them.

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	5. Chapter 5

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**Frozen**

"Sam... careful." Dean pushed a hand against his stumbling brother's chest, nearly dropping the flashlight in process. "You're okay?" The older brother could see the agony in his little brother's eyes.

Sam could still see Dean's dead eyes, the cut on his brother's throat. He could still feel the desperate feeling in his chest while trying in vain to shake his brother awake, begging him.

"Stop asking me that." Sam snapped, a lump in his throat. "I've just seen you die... do you really think I'... Dean... listen. There is something." The younger man gripped the older one's arm, pinching Dean's cold skin.

"It's the rain." Dean cupped the other man's should into his hand, turning Sam around slightly, so he could see rain from outside running down the walls. "Damn it... that's not even a basement... it's huge... like catacombs beneath the city."

"I haven't seen that much... I'm sorry." Sam closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the surroundings of his vision. "I can't really remember what I've seen... besides..." Sam swallowed.

"Don't freak out on me." Dean ordered, having problems himself to stay collected.

"HUMANS" A shout pierced the air, nearly giving the brothers heart-attacks. Immediately they were back on back, each of them armed with two guns, waiting for these things to attack. The flashlights on the floor were still lighten up their part of the corridor. Sam was looking in the direction the brothers came from.

"Dean..." Sam trembled, pushing himself further against his brother. "They're not coming."

Before Dean could even response, they heard approaching footsteps and out of the shadows came three men and four women, smiling and armed with knifes. Dean spun Sam around, making his brother look at the creatures, since they just came from his side.

"Oh... creepy." Dean sighed. "Sam... try not to miss, I guess we're really outnumbered."

"Sam." Dean shouted again, moving forward in the things' direction, shooting with both guns. "Little help here." But Sam was like frozen. He couldn't move a muscle. His eyes were fixed on one of the shifters, his brother hasn't shot yet. "Sam!" Dean yelled again, shooting the fifth shifter.

Sam trembled, still watching the one shapeshifter-man, which was suddenly crying out, when his last 'friend' got killed, running away into the dark.

"Shit Sam?" Dean turned around. "Could you please enlighten me, why you're not shooting?"

"He was with them..." Sam lower lip trembled. "It just took me of guard. The thing that killed you was with them..."

"And... I'll take a wild guess... it was the one which escaped... right..." Dean had still his arm lifted in the shifters' direction, waiting for new aggressors. Looking at his brother, Dean took the lack of answer as a guilty 'yes'. "Just great... Sam... next time you'll see something that might want to kill one of us... shoot... don't watch it like you want to write an essay about it."

Some noises from behind, Dean turned around fully and shot two others shapeshifter. _Crap... he needed Sam to snap out of it... Sam had to help... quickly._

Sam just looked him in the eyes. "You think I've frozen on purpose?" His voice was trembling.

"No..." Dean couldn't look at his brother's watering eyes, giving in. "I'm sorry... just... try to..."

"Focus?" Sam suggested. "Get the head in the game?"

"Try not to fall apart here." Dean's voice was soft. He really had told Sam to get his head in the game way too often the last couple of days. "I don't want you to get killed, Sammy." He looked up at his brother, searching for any hints of a change.

The nickname seemed to change something in Sam, he immediately lifted his gun to shoot another shifter.

"That's my boy..." Dean turned around to the bodies, not having heard the new shifter. "Come on... let's go on." He gently tucked on Sam's shirt.

Sam walked right beside his brother, when his brother killed another shifter. Though Dean hadn't said it, he really needed to get his head in the game. He had to save his brother's life. He couldn't allow the vision to come true.

That's why he wanted to rip his tongue out when he suddenly uttered a silent, hysterical "Dean... there are too many."

First the killed shapeshifter, then his whisper... now there had to be...

And there was, Dean's reassuring hand on his shoulder and a supposed-to-be-soothing "I know."

Another shot.

Another dead shapeshifter.

Sam ran on autopilot, knowing exactly what would come next, his mind spinning and his heart beating like mad.

Not knowing what else to do, Sam shoved his brother out of harm's way, his gun pointed at the attacker that was supposed to kill his brother.

The thing went to the ground, a silver bullet in his heart, while Dean and Sam were crouching on the ground against the wet wall. Sam could cry... he really could cry... he could cry out of pain... because of an burning pain in his shoulder, where the shifter had cut his skin open with it's knife. And then... he could honestly cry tears of joy, knowing that his brother was alive... right beside him, already fussing over his shoulder, still one gun in his hand, the other pressed down a slice of a cloth down on the shoulder. The cloth was obviously a sleeve of Dean's shirt.

"Sam... what the hell... you want to kill yourself... what's..." Dean shut up when he saw Sam's eyes. "It was the one... wasn't it?" He ran a hand through Sam's hair. The wound could wait and so could his lecture about jumping right into the dagger. "Thanks kiddo."

Sam smiled weakly, letting his brother help him stand up.

It wasn't over yet.

They went further. Sam turned around every now and then, the darkness and the rain, which was still running through the holes in the walls, were playing tricks on his mind.

"Hey Sammy... and hey... me... myself and I." A voice said.

"No..." Sam whined, gripping the hem of Dean's shirt. "Dean... no..."

Dean stopped in tracks, hearing his own, yet so unfamiliar voice. He protectively stood in front of his little brother, trying to make out where the voice came from. It seemed to be everywhere.

"Welcome to my... house." The shifter said and before the brothers could react, Dean felt a pain in the small of his back, being roughly parted from Sam, before a body landed on his top.

Sam's painful loud cry cut the air. "NO" He shouted while both Deans fought on the ground.

"No..." Dean pushed at his double, who slit open the strap of his necklace, destroying the only obvious hint.

"Wouldn't be any fun with that?" The shifter rolled over the real Dean, before he got on his legs, pulling Dean with him. Turing around a few times.

Sam tried to make out any differences between them, lifting his guns. Sam had no chance making this out from outer appearance. Both of the Deans had started the fight with the same wounds in their faces, and on both shirts were a sleeve missing.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, watching helplessly.

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	6. Chapter 6

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**Last chapter :(**

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**Baywatch**

"Shoot him." His brother's voice commanded and Sam had nearly obeyed, when he realized that he couldn't do that this time.

Sam had long lost track who the real Dean was. He just wanted to get a way from here... with his Dean. With a trembling hand and wobbling feet, Sam shot into the air, causing the shifter and Dean to jump apart, looking at him.

"Sam. Shoot him." One of them pointed at the other. Sam looked lost, his eyes wandering between the two of them. "Sam. Come on..." _Dean One._

"Sam. No. It's me." The other interrupted. "You have to know that." _Dean Two._

"Dean..." Sam's voice was shaking. He wanted to take the gun and set it onto his own head. "I don't know what to do." He didn't want to shoot neither of them, they were bother looking like his big brother. He know it was stupid, but he didn't want to send a bullet in his brother.

"Sam. Think about it. Look at us." One Dean hit his chest, with both hands. "You were able to tell the last time." _Dean One_ again.

"Don't believe him." The other yelled. _Dean Two_.

"Stop..." Sam yelled. "Stop." He knew that he had to do something. "I don't know what to do..."

"Shoot us both then." _Dean Two_ suggested. A tremble shook Sam's body.

"Don't you dare shoot us both..." The other admonished. "That's insane. Sammy."

A shot.

And _Dean Two _went to the floor.

"What the..." the remaining Dean looked shocked at the younger Winchester. "You're not gonna shoot me now... right?"

Sam shook his head, his eyes fixed on the body. Just his brother called him Sammy with this affection in his voice. Of course... Monsters... even Gordon had called him Sammy before but nobody really said it with this comfort in his voice.

And Dean wouldn't leave him behind.

"Sammy." Dean went over to his brother, turning him away from the body, guiding them both down onto their knees. "Look Sam." Dean fetched his silver knife, setting the blade down on his forearm, which was laying on Sam's knees, facing upward. He intended to reassure his little brother that it was really him.

"Stop." Sam lifted his still trembling hand, and pushed the knife away from his brother's forearm. Now there was just a small cut left. "I know that you're you. I just..."

Dean nodded, squeezing Sam's shoulder briefly. "It's okay." He promised. He stood up, giving his brother a hand to help him stand up. "Come on."

"Do you think we're done here?" Sam asked.

"We still need to burn down the catacombs. But yeah... I guess so." Dean's body felt sore, but he needed to think about Sam first. "Sammy... you're ready to go?" He asked, looking at his brother, worried.

"Yeah... of course." Sam nodded, glancing at the shifter's body one last time.

"Good." Dean picked up the necklace from the dirty floor, blowing away the dust, before he grinned at Sam, showing him the small item. "Now we're really ready for takeoff."

"And I thought you don't like flying." Sam teased him.

"Funny Sammy." Dean grinned, leading the way out of the catacombs.

Sam smiled down into the basement, seeing flames move down there.

"We have to leave... someone might see something." Dean got a light grip on Sam's unharmed shoulder. "We need to go." Sam nodded and followed Dean to the hotel.

"C'mon Sammy." The older one pushed the other man down on Sam's bed, before fetching the first aid kit. "Need to take a look on your shoulder."

"Is it deep?" It felt good to have his big brother back, patching him up... caring for him, so he hoped that Dean had to bandage it and clean it out, though that would be painful, too.

"Needs stitches." Dean glared down on his brother. "Next time you save my life... don't get injured."

"Dean..." Sam smiled slightly. "It's just a cut. I think you're in more pain right now... You got beaten pretty hard... I know what I'm talking about... Your right one is murderous."

"I told you to take a rain check. I'm sorry for that." The older man made a face, shaking his head. "Why did you know that this wasn't me, by the way. We pretty much said the same things." Dean asked, stitching up his brother's shoulder.

"You didn't want to be shot." Sam answered, wincing.

"Yeah... because I love life and I have to be alive for the girls..." Dean joked.

"No because you wouldn't leave me behind in a nest of shapeshifters. There could have been more..." Sam didn't want to joke around... he needed a honest conversation. "You know you _have _to be alive for _me._" Sam looked up. "You know that I need you... Right?"

_I want you to watch out for Sammy. _

"Sammy..." Dean whispered, running a hair through his brother's wayward hair. He knew that he sucked at being a brother right now. "I'll try... okay... Sammy?" He knew that he was still screwed in so many kind of ways, but he would try to change his attitude towards his little brother. His brother earned that much. "I'll try to be your big brother again... okay?"

Biting his lip, Sam gathered all his courage, pulling down his brother's upper body to hug him tightly. "Thank you."

"Get off me, you huge perv..." Dean grumbled.

"No... that's my rain-check..." Sam smiled.

"No... the rain-check was for a hit... a punch to my face... so get off... I..." Dean's arms were still on his side, but his voice was already softer.

"Nah... the rain-check is for something the you don't like... I didn't want to be hit... you don't want to be hugged... live with that." Sam interrupted his brother.

"You're such a girl." Dean laughed, sitting down beside Sam. Now he would be able to hug his brother back more comfortable, not standing in front of him... He honestly did not mind at all.

"Yeah... you're a jerk." Sam countered, his body tensing, when he waited for the replay.

Feeling his brother stiffen, Dean cupped the back of his brother's head into on of his hands, smiling gently, his word contradicting his actions. "Bitch"

Was is it a contradiction?

Sam smiled, relaxing, while his hold tightened around his brother's neck, feeling protected.

"Hey Dean..." Sam was serious again and when Dean tried to pull away to take a look at his brother, Sam hold on. "You know that I need you... that we always needed you? You know that dad loved us both equally. Right?"

"Sam..." Dean huffed. He didn't want to talk about that. He was amazed though that his brother could read him like that, finding his sorest spot so easily.

"Dean..." Sam's voice was soft, but challenging at the same time. "When the Yellow Eyed Demon possessed dad..."

"I know..." Dean nodded, squeezing Sam one last time to his chest. "I know that."

Sam chuckled relieved, loosening his grip.

"Okay... it's late... or early... whatever... let's go to bed, kiddo." Dean pushed Sam down on the bed, tucking the blanket around him. Sam smiled, closing his eyes when he felt Dean run a hand through his hair. "Goodnight Sammy."

"Goodnight." Sam listen to his brother, securing the room and going to his own bed.

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"Baywatch, Sammy." Dean climbed onto the lifeguard house, sitting down beside his smiling brother, handing him a beer. "Next time you leave like that... tell me _exactly_ where you are in your note or I'll kick your ass, buddy." Dean gently tucked his leader jacket around Sam's shoulders, since Sam had forgotten his own. He didn't say anything about it, and neither did Sam. The younger man just smiled.

"Sorry Dean... you were already sleeping... I didn't want to wake you up." The younger brother whispered, his legs dangling over the edge of the wooden floor. His arms were crossed on the railing, his chin on his forearms. "Just wanted to see that." Sam's face shone along with the raising sun. "How did you find the right lifeguard house?"

"Well... you've wrote that you would watch the raising sun... and I know you well enough that you would do that close to the sea and it's comfortable up here." Dean nudged Sam's knee with his own, mirroring his brother's position. "God... you're a chick!" He wouldn't confess that he enjoyed seeing something like that, too.

Sam's voice was quiet. "It's been a while since we've been on a beach." Dean glanced at his brother. "Even before I went to Stanford. I've been sixteen... It had been an awesome vacation. It had been one of the memories I recalled every time I was sick... or sad in Stanford."

"We had enough chick-flick moments today." Dean smiled. "You're out of rain-checks."

"You've said that we had things to talk about." Sam corrected. "... Dean... I shouldn't have said the things I've said. I didn't mean to hurt you..."

"God... help me right now... I need more beer." Dean took a huge gulp. "It was a stupid argument. Sam... leave it alone... we're good."

"So you're still gonna mollycoddling me?" Sam asked with an evil smirk on his face.

"At least I'm gonna call you Sammy again..." Dean started laughing when Sam blushed in the orange light.

"I thought... We didn't want to... I..." Sam bubbled out. "It's just. When did you look at it?"

"Before I left the hotel..." Dean grinned goofily. "But nice to read that you like being called Sammy. So it was no bluff when you told Gordon that I am the only one who is allowed to call you Sammy?"

"Shut up." Sam mumbled, his face red like a tomato. "What did you paint onto my shoulder?"

"Well, kiddo. I'm gonna go to my bed. You should sleep, too... you know." Dean stood up, laying a hand onto his brother's shoulder.

"Dean." Sam whined, demanding an answer.

Following Dean's eyes, Sam titled his head, when Dean leaned down to whisper something into his ear. "You're a great little brother." And with that Dean gripped the railing with both hands and slipped through the space between the floor and the first rod, jumping down onto the sand.

"Dean... what the?" Sam shouted after him, sliding down, too, starting after his brother. "I want to know what you've wrote." When Sam caught up with his brother, Dean smiled at him, making Sam stop walking. "What?" He asked, grinning now, too. "You've written that I'm a great little brother?"

At first Dean wanted to say that he'd just written that, because he had to write something 'out-of-character', but that would have been a complete lie. He really had a great little brother. The older man adored the younger one for being so patient and kind, while Dean behaved like an ass. Dean just shook his head, hiding his face. "Oh... I'll never live that down." He didn't want Sam to see the smile on his blushing face.

Sam just beamed happily, tucking his brother's jacket closer around himself, following his brother.

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**Yeah yeah I know... chick flick :D **

**Sue me :-)**

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**Okay guys... I hope you enjoyed the story :) I enjoyed writing it so much!**


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